


Wedding Vows, and Other Examples of Important Conversations

by ABeautifulSleeper



Series: Talking is Hard (Until It's Not) [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, M/M, Talking, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Weddings, and 5 hard ciders to write the sexy bits, finally i am done, it only took 3 years to finish this series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24812809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABeautifulSleeper/pseuds/ABeautifulSleeper
Summary: The final part of this ballet AU series. From the rough beginning to the happy end, Yuuri and Viktor have improved their communication skills, and now all that's left is taking those final big steps into their shared future.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Talking is Hard (Until It's Not) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/908364
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

It’s been 520 days now that they’ve been together (or so Viktor just yelled from the other side of the door as he passed), 520 days of hand-holding, couch-snuggling, laughing and joking and dancing and just being together love. And now, ready or not, believe it or not, today they’re getting together in front of all their friends and family and promising to keep doing all of that stuff together for the rest of forever. Yuuri both does and does not believe that this is his life. And he both is and is not ready for it.

If you had told him two years ago that he would be getting married to his lifelong idol, world-famous dancer Viktor Nikiforov, he would probably have yelled at you for mocking him and then gone off to have a panic attack in private somewhere. Hell, even now he’s not completely discounted that as a possible course of action, and it’s the morning of his wedding and he’s been dating Viktor for a year and five months almost and living with him for the last 7 months of that. 7 months of waking up with Viktor suctioned to his side like a giant Russian squid, 7 months of petty arguments about whose turn to take out the trash it is, 7 months of shared meals and impromptu dancing in the kitchen and taking Makkachin on walks together and helping each other handle their respective demons. Teenage Yuuri couldn’t even have imagined exactly how wonderful this casual domesticity would be.

So they’ve lived together for 7 months, and dated for longer than that, which means they’ve seen each other through some of the depths of mental health bullshit, all those skeletons in the closet getting a chance to be aired out and examined. They’ve gone together to several of Viktor’s therapy appointments, to talk about how their issues affect them as a couple, and how they can support each other more effectively. They’re just about as intimate as two people can be.

And yet. They haven’t taken that big step with physical intimacy, penetrative sex. Of course Yuuri knows that they don’t have to have penetrative sex for their relationship to be valid, even without Viktor assuring him of that every time Yuuri brings up his insecurity. They’ve done hand stuff and oral and a good deal of delightful frotting and then there have been a couple of times where Viktor, open and wanton, begged Yuuri to let him fuck his thighs (and damn if _that_ didn’t make Yuuri feel powerful). But every time Yuuri has thought he was ready to have Viktor fuck him, or to try to fuck Viktor, when it came down to it he couldn’t get far enough out of his own head to relax and go through with it. Every single time he’s ended up curled in on himself in embarrassment while Viktor holds him close and tries to reassure him, _darling it doesn’t matter to me if we never get around to that, I just love being close to you however you’ll let me_ , and while Yuuri appreciates that Viktor isn’t pushing him that doesn’t change the fact that he’s upset with himself because he wants to have penetrative sex with Viktor _so badly_ and he can’t figure out _why the fuck_ his brain won’t cooperate.

He’s so frustrated with himself that he’s actually gone back to his old therapist about it a couple times, and they’ve talked through some possibilities of why he is the way that he is and what he can do about it. Yuuri thinks he’s finally ready. Maybe. He hopes he is, anyways, because if he’s not able to have sex with Viktor today, on the day of their wedding, he’s not sure he ever will be, and he doesn’t want their wedding night to end up with him crying because he’s been thwarted by his own brain once again. He has a plan this time, too. Step 1: at the reception he’s going to have just a few flutes of champagne, just enough to loosen him up but not so much that he strips and dances in his underwear on the tables and/or he can’t perform. Step 2: he’s going to push Viktor to get a move on from the party before it gets too late and they get too tired to try. Step 3: once they’re back at their apartment (because they’re not leaving for their honeymoon until the next evening), he’s going to seduce Viktor so properly that they’ll both want it so badly that no anxiety can possibly come between them. Step 4: ??? Step 5: prosper. It’s basically foolproof.

But before he can get down to executing the plan, he first has to finish getting ready and then do all the actual “getting-married-stuff”. Because there will be absolutely no sexy times if he can’t manage to get his shit together and marry the love of his life.

They’re getting married at the afterschool center, because while it’s not where they first met it _is_ the place that really brought them together in the form they are now. If they hadn’t been working together at the afterschool center, and if they hadn’t had the amazing Tracey and Krista to help them remove their heads from their asses when everything got messy at the very beginning, Yuuri doesn’t think things would be as good now as they are. Plus, the kids at the center mean a lot to them and they wanted to make their wedding open to their students, so where better to have the ceremony and reception than at the center? Yuuri’s currently getting himself ready in an empty classroom, and for the moment he’s alone because Phichit has left to go fetch his makeup kit from home because Yuuri finally caved and agreed to let him fix his face up for today. There’s really not much else that he needs to do, aside from whatever it is that Phichit has planned for him. He just needs to put his suit coat on and adjust his tie a bit. Oh, and try not to freak out too much, but that may be a losing battle. This is the most important day of Yuuri’s life so far, and it would be very out of character for him not to freak out at least a little.

As he waits for Phichit’s return, he walks over to the window. He can see people starting to arrive, kids dressed up in their best clothes, some with parents escorting them, some alone. He sees some of Viktor’s friends from his time with the Mariinsky getting out of a limo, which, he supposes some people never have understood the concept of subtlety. He knows his own family are already in the building, his father helping make sure the flower arrangements are in place and his mother supervising the caterers. Mari is probably outside having a secretive smoke out back. Minako, his mother’s best friend and Yuuri’s mentor, is probably trying to find a way to sneak into Viktor’s dressing room (the art classroom) to threaten to disembowel him with his own pointe shoes if he ever hurts Yuuri in any way. It’s really an awful lot of people coming, if Yuuri takes too much time to think about it. So many people to potentially witness it when Yuuri inevitably does something stupid like pass out from standing with his knees locked for too long, or forgets his own name, or pukes in the middle of his vows from nerves, or—

“Hey there, Yuuri, take some deep breaths. It’s gonna be okay, but you need to not hyperventilate before your wedding,” Phichit says, his hand on Yuuri’s back. When did he come back? Yuuri doesn’t know, he’s apparently been too busy losing his shit to pay attention to his surroundings. He tries to take deeper breaths, but his chest is too tight and he really needs to sit down before he passes out and gives himself a concussion in the fall. Phichit knows this, and is already shoving him into a chair (that is comically small, but then again it’s meant for a literal child and not just a man who can’t control his own anxiety).

“So-sorry,” Yuuri manages to gasp out. Phichit just shakes his head and continues to rub his back soothingly.

“It’s not your fault. No need for sorry, just need to get you back to breathing right. Breathe with me now. In, hold, out, hold. You can tell me what’s messed with you once you’ve calmed down a bit,” he says as they work on breathing together. After a few minutes of sitting and breathing like that, Yuuri no longer feels like he’s going to implode from the pressure in his chest.

“I just got a little overwhelmed thinking about how many people are coming to see this, I think. We invited a lot of people, and almost all of them said they’d come, and now they’re going to be watching me when I somehow fuck this up. And I really, really don’t want to fuck this up. I’m marrying _Viktor Nikiforov_ , Phichit! How? How has he not gotten bored of my anxious ass? I don’t know, but I don’t want to fuck it up and make him realize this was all a mistake!” he exclaims.

“Yuuri, you’re not gonna fuck it up. You’re going to go out there in this gorgeous suit and you’re going to marry the love of your life and live happily ever after and have a bunch of gorgeous babies together and it’ll all be great and make the rest of the world positively jealous because of how perfect you two are,” Phichit responds, pulling him up to lean against a desk. “Now here, stand still so I can do your makeup. That way, even if _god forbid_ you do fuck up, you’ll at least look stunning while you do it, so maybe no one will notice.” Yuuri rolls his eyes at that logic, but does as he’s told. He’s learned though his years of being friends with Phichit that it’s easier to just let him have his way with his face than to try to argue the point.

He stands patiently still while Phichit applies primer and a light foundation before starting in on the eyeliner, eyebrow pencil, and mascara, then moving on to the bronzer and blush. After almost choking Yuuri by catching him in the face with setting spray when he had opened his mouth to yawn, he adds a sprinkling of glitter to Yuuri’s gelled hair for a finishing touch. “There! Now you sparkle like the star I’ve always known you are,” he says with an air of satisfaction, taking a picture so Yuuri can see himself. Yuuri’d be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. Phichit has turned him from a kind of boring, average Katsuki Yuuri to a dangerous, glittering version of himself with perfectly winged eyeliner and cheekbones that could probably cut someone. The makeup, paired with his midnight black tuxedo, make him look like one of the models in the wedding magazines Viktor has spent every spare minute poring over since the day after Yuuri proposed to him. He hopes Viktor will be happy with it.

“Thanks, Phichit. For everything,” he says, meaning a lot more than just the makeup. “You should probably finish getting yourself ready, we don’t have too much time left until things start.” Phichit laughs, pulling out his makeup brushes to get started working on himself.

“You know I’ll be ready. Got to look my absolute best today, after all, your best friend’s wedding doesn’t happen every day,” he states. They keep up a mostly inane stream of chatter for the next half hour, and Yuuri recognizes but doesn’t call out Phichit’s attempt to keep him from worrying too much. He’s honestly so lucky to have found a friend like Phichit to help pull him out of his spirals without making a big deal out of it. Before he knows it, his family have come by to have a last word with him before they go settle into their seats. Yuuri and his mother will walk in, followed by Viktor and Yakov, because with the trickiness of figuring out which wedding customs they wanted for their own wedding they both liked the idea of being given away but it didn’t seem fair for just one of them to be escorted down the aisle so they’ve decided to have them both do it.

“Oh, Yuuri, you look so handsome. I’m so proud of you, my baby has grown so much!” his mother coos, wrapping him up in a warm hug that further settles the nerves that had been returning somewhat.

“Hey, Yuuri,” Mari jabs him in his side, earning a both a wince and Yuuri’s undivided attention. “Good luck, little brother. Just know it’s never too late to walk out, and I’ve got the keys to the rental car if you need to make a break for it,” she says, and Yuuri’s sure she’s probably both joking and entirely serious if he were to need her to be.

“Thanks, Mari, but I don’t think I’ll be needing to. I’ll keep it in mind though,” he responds, still rubbing the spot she brutalized. Time must be moving at double time, because somehow he feels like he’s fast-forwarded through the minutes it takes to walk to the doors of the gym where everything will happen. He can hear the music playing in the gym as the door opens and his sister and father give him one last wave and walk off to go find Minako and their seats before the doors close again.

“How are you feeling, Yuuri?” his mother asks, pressing a section of his hair back from where it was attempting to break free from the gel.

“I mean…I’ve already done some panicking? So maybe I’m done and I can get through this?” he answers, though it’s really more of a question.

“Well, no matter what happens, know that we love you so much, and we’re so happy for you, and Vicchan loves you so much as well, I can see it in the way he looks at you and acts with you. Even if you stumble on your feet or your words, I do not believe there’s anything you could possibly do to make him love you any less,” she murmurs softly, straightening his collar one last time. “Now, stand up straight. It’s almost time to go in.”

And those words seem to have done the trick that not even Phichit could completely do, in getting him to relax and push the bulk of his doubts aside. The music switches over from some generic Taylor Swift lovey-dovey pop love song to the song that he and Viktor had chosen for them to walk down the aisle, Adele’s “Make You Feel My Love”. Viktor is one hundred percent the kind of dramatic shower opera gay who would probably cry if he ever actually met Adele, and Yuuri happens to like the words to this one and how it applies to their love and journey together, so it was a bit of a no-brainer. He and his mother make their way down the aisle behind Freddie, a student of Viktor’s who they’ve chosen as their flower girl even as she still loves to antagonize Viktor on a daily basis. To his eternal surprise, he manages not to trip over his own feet or someone else’s feet as he walks, and they arrive at the altar where Krista is waiting with no incidents. He and Viktor were both surprised to discover that their supervisor was an ordained minister capable of performing weddings, but with that information they knew having her marry them was the obvious choice. His mother gives him one last smile, squeezes his hand, and moves to go sit down with the rest of his family. Yuuri is only standing there awkwardly for a moment before the doors to the gymnasium open once again, and his breath leaves him on a massive gasp at the sight that greets him.

Viktor is always beautiful, even when the laws of nature ought to forbid it, but to say today that Viktor looks like the best thing Yuuri has ever seen would be the worst understatement ever known to man. He is glowing both within and without, silvery locks carefully arranged to artfully fall over his (perfect and large) forehead, icy blue eyes glimmering with happiness and maybe repressed tears? He’s still too far away to tell. His normally pale cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, lips pulled up into a beatific smile around his blindingly white teeth. And the dove white of his tuxedo pulled tightly over the broadness of his shoulders has Yuuri wondering if perhaps this is Viktor’s true form, that of an angel walking the earth. The only thing missing is the feathered wings, really. Yuuri’s brain is off-line, unable to form any single thought but _holy fuck I am about to marry the most gorgeous creature ever to walk the earth what the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK_. That’s the only thing that registers until Viktor and Yakov finally arrive at the altar, and Yakov hands off this blessing from the heavens to Yuuri before going to settle into his own seat.

Viktor looks up at him with a small smile, and Yuuri hurries to close his mouth that is still hanging open from being taken by surprise by his fiancé’s ethereal splendor. He can see now that yes, those are tears in Viktor’s eyes, and _oh shit now I’m trying not to cry too_. Krista clears her throat as the music dies out, and Yuuri is listening to her but he only has eyes for the man standing in front of him.

“Good afternoon, everyone. It is my honor and pleasure to welcome you all to this ceremony celebrating the wedding of two of my good friends and employees, Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov, as they begin down the path of one shared life from their two separate journeys. It’s a long road, and I’m sure they’re anxious to set off, so let us get started,” she begins with a smile. “You have asked me to share a few words on what the word ‘love’ means to me, and I’m honored that you asked.”

“Love is a word we hear a lot, in many different contexts, and with different depths of meaning depending on where it comes from and who’s saying it. It appears in religious texts, in songs, in poetry, and in greeting cards. And there are nearly as many different kinds of love as there are people in the world, with each person showing their love in their own way. Love can be something that, in the right circumstances, brings out the best in us all, or it can bring us to our knees. It is an ever-changing and adapting thing, and yet it remains true and centers our relationships. The love that I see as an outsider to your relationship, Yuuri and Viktor, is all of this. And as an outsider, I am sure there are depths and shallows to it that I cannot see, but that the two of you will learn to navigate and weather in the years to come,” she says, looking meaningfully between the two of them. Viktor reaches over to grab his hand and give it a comforting squeeze, or possibly to receive comfort himself.

Looking out at the crowd, then back to the couple before her, Krista carries on with the next part of her script. “I’m sure you’ve both considered this many, many times before this moment, so I’ll keep this short. Marriage is a very serious step in a relationship, as a binding contract between you as a couple and the state, and not a decision to take lightly. It is no easy task to dissolve such a union once formed, and I know that all of us currently present are wishing you all the best in the long term maintenance of this bond you forge before us today.”

Yuuri and Viktor both nod their thanks at that last remark, though Yuuri is feeling vaguely queasy again. The part that he’s afraid of, the part where he has to say all those things he thought up to say to Viktor in front of every person the two of them have ever cared about is nearly here, and he’s not entirely sure he won’t puke or pass out or—

“The grooms have chosen to write their own vows, and will share their promises to one another before all of us assembled here today,” Krista says, interrupting his train of catastrophizing. He gulps, wondering if there were any way he could maybe call a time out or get Phichit to step in and say his vows for him. He wanted to go first because he was beyond sure there was no way he’d ever be able to keep himself together after he heard whatever Viktor was going to say to and about him, but right now he’s kind of regretting that decision. But he knows, deep down, even if all he manages to get out right now are a bunch of half-formed words in some ungodly combination of Japanese and English, his darling Vitya would still just nod solemnly and tell him that those were the best vows he’d ever heard. And so, summoning the strength of knowing how crazy Viktor was for him, he begins.

“Viktor, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I tend to get a little anxious sometimes.” Laughter from the crowd, and a chuckle from Viktor. _That’s got to be a good sign_. “I get anxious, I always have and I likely always will, over things big and small, important and immaterial. And if the me of two years ago met the me that you’ve helped me to become, I think he’d start hyperventilating because he wouldn’t recognize himself. Vitya, I’m always going to be a nervous wreck, and I’m always going to stress eat during the lead-up to recital season, but even with all of that, I know that I’m a better person for having met you, for having loved you, and most importantly for having been loved by you in return. So if you’re willing to sign on to deal with me being anxious for the rest of our lives, I’d be honored to have you stay by my side,” he says, a little too loud at first, but more quietly by the end. He continues, looking up into Viktor’s eyes now that he’s a little more confident. “And in return for your patience and kindness, and above all your love, I promise in return to be as patient and kind with you as I can, and to give you all the love you deserve and more,” he finishes, tears threatening to escape, voice nearly too tight to get the words out.

Viktor has clearly given up on not crying, and has settled for just trying not to bawl and make a scene (yet). He reaches for Yuuri’s other hand, pulling both up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the knuckles. Taking a moment to center himself, he looks down at their joined hands before he begins his own speech.

“Yuuri, my Yuuri, дорогой. I’m not sure how you could possibly expect me to top what you’ve just said, or even to come close, but I know only that I will do my best to speak from my heart and tell you how much you mean to me.” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “When we first met, a number of days ago that I will not disclose at this time for fear of sounding like an obsessive romantic fool, I was but a shell of a man, a mere shadow of my former self. I could scarcely be lower than I was then, physically, psychologically, or emotionally. And yet that did not frighten you away, nor did you know who I was for any sort of fame to convince you to keep talking to me. And even though I was not honest in the beginning, you gave me a second chance to prove that I wasn’t a scoundrel, omitting the truth with ill intent. Just as you say I have made your life better, I know that I would not be half the man I am now without your caring influence, your gentle care for my broken body and soul bringing me forth from the darkness that I had allowed to encompass me. Every day that I wake up and realize that I am still somehow loved by you, my heart wants to sing, but I refrain because I know you would prefer not to hear that first thing in the morning. Or ever. So, I promise to stay by your side and love you, anxieties and all, and not sing and be overdramatic first thing in the morning too often. And I promise to always find a way to be the man you deserve by your side, and to do my best to make both our happiness a priority,” he states solemnly, the corner of his mouth quirking up a miniscule amount the only hint of levity in his face or tone.

By this point, Yuuri doubts there’s a dry eye in the house, but he certainly can’t check because he simply cannot see for the tears he’s shedding himself. In retrospect, they really have been through a lot of ups and downs, as Viktor said, but the ups have definitely outweighed the downs. He’s so lucky to have this beautiful, silly, dramatic fool of a man as his almost husband, really.

“That was beautiful, gentlemen. Now, if we could have the rings?” Krista interrupts before anyone could start sobbing dramatically. Phichit and Christophe, as their best men, have been standing by waiting for this moment, and step up to hand them to Viktor and Yuuri.

“Excellent. Now, do you, Viktor Nikiforov, take Yuuri Katsuki to be your lawfully wedded husband?” she addresses Viktor first. He nods first, seemingly forgetting how to speak, before managing a watery “I do,” letting Yuuri slip the gold band onto his right ring finger.

“And do you, Yuuri Katsuki, take Viktor Nikiforov to be your lawfully wedded husband?” she asks Yuuri. With the most calm he’s felt probably in several weeks, he affirms, “I do,” smiling wider than he knew he was able as Viktor slides his ring onto his left ring finger.

Krista smiles at them one more time, looking a little misty eyed herself. “Then, as both parties are able, willing, and of sound mind, and by the power vested in me by the state of Michigan, it is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss your husband,” she says.

Yuuri leans in, and Viktor leans in, and their lips meet for the first time as husbands ( _husbands!!!_ ), and because he’s only married the most extra man alive, he finds himself scrambling for a grip on Viktor’s shoulders as he’s dipped lower than he thought should be possible. He can _feel_ Viktor smiling into the kiss, and knowing he wants to keep his husband ( _husband!!!!!_ ) on his toes, he manages to adjust his balance to bring himself up and then dips Viktor in return. Laughing now, with the joy of surprises and being married to the love of his life, he pulls Viktor back up to wolf-whistles and cheers from the crowd.

Before they make their way back down the aisle, Krista has one last announcement. “Friends, I present to you all: Mr. and Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov!” And with that, they’re off down the aisle, hand in hand, ready to take on life together. Well, first the reception. And then the wedding night. But after all that, then life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the bit where the actual sexy bits happen.

Giggling still, and somehow still mostly upright after hours of photos, dancing, speeches, and “gorko, gorko, gorko!” until they’d kissed so much Yuuri was afraid his lips might go permanently numb (and isn’t that a tragic thought, never again being able to feel Viktor’s lips against his own), he and Viktor made their way back to their apartment. Makkachin was already packed up and settled in at Tracey’s apartment, and had promised in the way only a dog can not to terrorize Tracey’s cat any more than was strictly necessary to maintain the balance in the universe. Tracey had promised them to send pictures to prove Makkachin’s safety and well-being multiple times daily while they were on their honeymoon, and so the newlyweds felt only a little bad for not bringing their fur child on their trip. _On the upside,_ Yuuri reflects, _it does remove one distraction from my plan tonight._ He’s finished the first two steps of his plan to get laid, now all he needs to do is start the seduction. And if he must say so himself, he feels like he’s already got a pretty decent head-start on that.

At the reception, he’d made sure to keep at least one hand on Viktor at all times: his shoulder, his forearm, wrapped tenderly around his wrist, on his knee, squeezing at his thigh under the safety of the tablecloth, and once or twice being so bold as to let his hand brush lightly past the zipper on his pants (all in the name of swiping crumbs off his suit, of course). Those last two in particular had earned him some of the most wondrously coy glances from beneath fluttering silver lashes, a soft blush from a combination of the champagne and vodka toasts and the touches pinking Viktor’s cheeks. They’d been in close contact through nearly all the dances, excepting when they’d danced with their families and once when Christophe, having lost his shirt, pulled Yuuri to the side to remind him to please never break Viktor’s heart or he’d have to challenge him to a dance battle that he would most certainly lose and forever be ashamed of, and Yuuri had mostly succeeded in keeping his smile contained and stated that he understood and agreed. And then in their ride from the venue back to the apartment, Viktor had rested his head on his shoulder the whole way, face practically buried in Yuuri’s neck, his warm breaths teasing Yuuri with every exhale.

And now, as he double-checks the lock on the door, making sure the chain and deadbolt are secure, he has Viktor seemingly suctioned to his side, the fingers of his right hand slotted between Yuuri’s own left, their rings clinking together gently. Viktor’s lips, having started at his cheek, trail slowly down his neck and towards his collarbone, stopping briefly at his earlobe and making it very difficult for him to remember why exactly he’s still standing in front of the door, and also which way the deadbolt is supposed to lock.

“Seems like someone’s a bit eager, aren’t you, Vitya?” he asks softly, leaning his head back to give easier access. Viktor merely hums his agreement, far too immersed in his own activities to bother with words. Finally accepting the state of the locks, Yuuri turns to face Viktor, using his free hand to card through his husband’s hair, scratching lightly at the shorter hair at the nape of his neck.

Allowing his own hand to come to a rest at Viktor’s shoulder, and basking in the sensation of his husband’s continued attentions at his neck and collarbone, Yuuri takes a moment to take stock of his own mental state. He’s definitely horny, the blood seemingly racing from his brain and headed below the waist could attest to that. He’s also incredibly happy, still riding the high of knowing that he’s fucking _married_ now, to the most incredible and handsome man he’s ever met, who just so happens to be feeding into the horny factor right now. He’s been both of those things before, and still managed somehow to let his nerves get the best of him when it came down to crossing that last boundary. But right now, when he casts about in his own mind seeking out the anxiety that’s almost more familiar than his own reflection, he finds that it’s been seemingly reduced to just one note of the symphony of feelings he’s being drowned in right now. And zooming in to take up some of that real estate there’s something akin to confidence, to power. He feels certain in this moment that he can do this. He can be as comfortable in his own skin as he needs to be to take or be taken by his Vitya, whichever happens to be the way things happen.

“Vitya, if it’s all the same to you, I’d really like to move this to another location. Preferably one with a bed,” he murmurs, his thumb pulling Viktor’s chin up, angling his face to look into his eyes.

“Of course, my Yuuri. I just couldn’t wait to get started, I’ve been thinking about getting you home for hours and finally being able to kiss you properly,” Viktor responds, leaning in for another such kiss, wasting no time in pressing his tongue into Yuuri’s mouth, seeking out his tongue. Yuuri opens up to him, allowing the intrusion and reveling in the feeling of being so close. They stand there like that for few moments, before Yuuri pulls back and walks off down the hall towards their bedroom, pulling a dazed Viktor along by the hand.

Yuuri releases his hand to make it easier to feel along the wall to find his way to the bedside table and turn on the lamp, preferring to skip the harshness of the overhead light altogether but knowing he’s going to need to be able to see a little better than the fairy lights would allow. He pauses to open the drawer of the table and find the supplies he anticipates needing in a few minutes: their preferred lube--some expensive water-based stuff Viktor got delivered from some little French boutique, some tissues and baby wipes for easy clean-up later, and the box of condoms he’d bought months ago when they first started talking about having penetrative sex.

Having settled everything within easy reach on top of the bedside table, he turns back to face Viktor, who’s standing there just within the doorway, leaned on the wall with his arms crossed, an incredibly fond look on his face, mouth quirked up in a small smile. He unfolds his arms, a gesture beckoning Yuuri to take the few steps back across the room and walk into his embrace.

Mouth against Yuuri’s ear, he whispers, “дорогой, I know you know this, but I just want to say it again before we start anything here. I love you, I adore you so incredibly much, and I’m so glad we’re married now. And whatever we end up doing tonight and any night after that, I’m so lucky to be with you and I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything that you’re not wholly comfortable with.”

Yuuri leans back, smiling himself now. “Vitya, I do know that. And I know you know the same goes for you, if there’s anything that doesn’t feel good or even is just kinda…meh. But I really do feel like I’m ready this time. I’ve been talking to my therapist, and I’ve thought about it more than I probably should, but I’m ready to stop thinking a little bit. I’m ready to just do, and honestly I kinda feel like at this point if I can’t do it tonight then I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. So let’s ditch the clothes, embrace who we are, and enjoy this first night of being married. What do you say?” he says.

“Sounds good to me, my Yuuri. And in that case, may I undress you?” Viktor replies, hands already inching towards the button at his collar. Yuuri nods, shrugging out of his suit coat and tossing it in the general direction of the chair in the corner of the room.

“Can I, uh, do yours?” Yuuri asks, only a minor note of nerves in his voice. They’ve done this part so many times now, but knowing the end goal this time does bring a certain amount of trepidation, even with his new-found confidence guiding his way.

“Of course, my Yuuri,” Viktor affirms, nearly done with Yuuri’s buttons himself. He moves on to Yuuri’s tie as Yuuri deftly undoes his buttons. There’s a brief moment of laughter when he tries to pull his shirt off, realizing a moment too late that he forgot to undo the buttons at his sleeves, leaving Yuuri’s hands trapped in the shirt until he attends to them.

In no time at all they find themselves freed from the confines of their finery, which is tossed over the chair in the corner with perhaps less ceremony than such fine fabric deserves, but Yuuri refuses to let Viktor worry over it right now, afraid he’ll suddenly lose his nerve with any distraction like he has so many times before. When they’re down to undershirts and underwear, he sits down at the edge of the bed, scooting up towards the headboard to make room for Viktor to follow him down and enable their kisses from before to resume. When he takes control of the kiss and deepens it, allowing his tongue to dominate Viktor’s, he finds that he can still taste the vodka and cake from the wedding, but under that still the sweet taste that he could only really describe as “Viktor”. As they kiss, he pulls first Viktor’s and then his own undershirt off, letting those fall where they may, and Viktor’s hands are suddenly everywhere, rubbing his lower back in the space between him and the pillows at the headboard, and one is fondling its way up his belly almost tickling him before becoming firmer at his pectoral muscles, thumb pressing against the nub of his nipple until it becomes a hard peak before moving on to its twin and giving it the same treatment. Yuuri, for what it’s worth, is equally enamored with Viktor’s skin, one hand tracing along the strong muscles of his shoulders, and the other grasping at his ribs, feeling the rapid rise and fall of Viktor’s chest as he sits perched in his lap.

“Yuuri, I know you said you just want to ‘do’ tonight, and not talk so much, but I feel the need to ask: if we’re going to have penetrative sex, which position would you prefer to be in? I’m just as happy to give as to receive, so to speak. I’ve been in the receiving position before with a man, and if you would prefer to do it that way, I’d be happy to do that for you. I’m sure you’ll make it feel good for me,” Viktor interrupts, hands still stroking Yuuri’s abdomen but moving closer to the waistband of his underwear, the tenting in them obvious.

“If you’re sure that’s okay with you…then I think that’s what I’d like to try, for this first time. You can tell me what’s feeling good, and how to make it better for you. But you have to promise me you’ll tell me if something isn’t good, if it hurts,” Yuuri says intently, looking Viktor in the eye with those last words. “The last thing in the world that I want is to hurt you, and I know you trust me almost to the point of letting me do something even if it did hurt, so I need to know that you’ll be honest with me.”

“I promise you, Yuuri. If something isn’t right, I will tell you. I won’t wait, and I won’t lie. I know how important that is to you,” Viktor promises. “Now that that’s settled…I’d like it very much if you’d take off my underwear, and maybe yours as well?”

Blushing and nodding, Yuuri pulls first at the elastic of Viktor’s waistband, pulling them down over his ass and exposing his erection to the warm, humid air of the room. Viktor crawls off his lap long enough to allow him to remove his own underwear, with Viktor lending a hand in pushing it down his legs and leaving him to kick his ankles to free himself at last.

“Do you want to prepare me, or do you want to watch me prepare myself?” Viktor asks, once Yuuri settles back against the headboard.

“Maybe you should start, let me see how you do it, and then I’ll help?” Yuuri says, though it comes out as more of a question.

“Sure. I’m always glad to perform for you, дорогой.” Viktor gives him a wink as he leans over the bed to get the lube, and squirts some into his hand, allowing it to warm up a bit first. Yuuri watches raptly as he turns around, smearing the lube onto his fingers before leaning down on one elbow and his knees, ass up in the air. He speaks again, pressing one finger slowly into his pucker, as Yuuri watches raptly. “You know, part of my preparations for the wedding included a bit of clean-up down here, hoping you’d want to do this tonight. I didn’t want to be unprepared for if you were feeling up to it. I felt so excited as I did it, just thinking about how maybe you’d end up seeing me just like this. Fingering myself, getting ready to take your cock inside me, make you feel better than I ever have before. And you watching me, hardly able to control yourself, wanting to touch but being a little nervous.” He looks back at Yuuri, whose cock twitches where it lays against his belly, already a bit wet at the tip, fists clenched at his sides listening to Viktor talk.

“Vitya…do you often touch yourself like this, thinking about me?” Yuuri rasps, his voice deeper than he’d ever heard it.

“Mmmm, more than I’d like to admit. Not that I don’t also think about getting to have you like this, if that’s something you ever want. But yes, I do like to get off like this sometimes, when I have the time to do all the preparations right. I like to work myself up to three fingers, imagining how it would feel to have you taking care of me instead,” Viktor responds, adding a second finger and beginning to scissor them after giving himself a moment to adjust to the change.

“Can I…would it be okay if I helped you, now?” Yuuri asks. He’s trying so hard to stay polite and in control of himself, but he’s nearly at the end of his rope between the view he’s got and the salacious things his husband is saying to him and the soft, wet sounds Viktor’s fingers are making as they move in and out of his hole, stretching and getting himself nice and wet.

“Oh yes, please. I’m ready for a third finger now I think. Get some lube and give it to me, please. I want to feel you in me so badly, my Yuuri,” Viktor pants, and Yuuri doesn’t hesitate now. Grabbing the lube he squirts what’s probably a little too much into his hand, lubing up his finger and slowly pressing it in alongside Viktor’s two fingers.

_OHmyGOD. So hot, so wet, so tight. I don’t think I’m going to be able to last, and this is just my finger. Oh god._ Yuuri’s brain is barely clinging to reality at this point, taking in and trying to process all the sensations surrounding his finger, but also the keening whine Viktor lets out when he presses in all the way to his knuckle.

“Yes, Yuuri, that’s so…so good. Ohhhh,” Viktor moans, having paused his own fingers’ motion to allow himself to adjust once again. After a moment he starts to move his own fingers gently, hips pushing back against the intrusion. “You can move your finger a bit, keep stretching me a bit more,” he sighs. Yuuri nods, and starts thrusting his finger into Viktor with Viktor’s rhythm of his fingers. They keep thrusting in and out, Yuuri growing bolder and pressing deeper and harder at Viktor’s inner walls. On one such thrust, he feels something a bit different, a slight bump, and presses at it, wrenching a cry from Viktor’s lips.

He pulls back, startled. “Are you okay? Did that hurt, Viktor?” he nearly shouts, panicking.

“God, no. That was _incredible_ and if you don’t do it again forget what I said earlier about not being mad if we have to stop, I’m going to literally die,” Viktor whimpers. Laughing shakily, but ultimately relieved that that was a good sound, he replaces his finger and starts trying to find that spot again to make Viktor feel good. It takes a few tries, but he finds that spot again, and makes Viktor nearly fall down onto the mattress, his cock jerking between his legs and leaking onto the bedspread beneath him.

“Yuuri, please, please fuck me. I’m ready, I need you, I’m about to lose my mind with how good this feels, I need more than just fingers, please,” Viktor whines, looking over his shoulder desperately.

“I…okay,” Yuuri says, fumbling to clean his hand off so he can open a condom. “Um…do you want to stay like you are, or would you rather be face to face? Which way is easier or better for you?” he asks, nearly dropping the condom before finally rolling it on, giving himself a couple strokes to relieve some of the pressure that’s been building.

“It may be a little easier to start like this? But I want to be facing you in the end, so I guess let me know when you’re close so we can flip things over,” Viktor replies after contemplating for a few seconds. “But first, come down here and give me a kiss.”

Yuuri complies, molding himself to Viktor’s back and leaning over his shoulder to meet his lips for a loving kiss before leaning back to rest on his knees, Viktor giving him an encouraging look before letting his head drop between his shoulders as he braces his elbows on the mattress. _Last chance to back out_ , Yuuri thinks to himself. Taking a deep breath, he grasps his own cock and presses it against the rim of Viktor’s hole, feeling the warmth radiating off his body. He lets both of them adjust to the idea of that for a few seconds, before pressing in slowly, hesitant against the resistance he still feels there even with all their preparations.

“Ohhhh, oh, yes, just like that, дорогой, slowly, keep going, keep going,” Viktor sighs, pushing his hips back into Yuuri, both men gasping as the head popped in.

_I’m going to die before I even manage to get all the way inside him_. Trying very hard to think of anything to keep himself from coming too soon, Yuuri forces himself to keep breathing as he continues slowly pushing himself into the intoxicating heat of Viktor’s ass. Finally, _finally_ , he bottoms out, and waits there, rubbing Viktor’s back comfortingly as he tries to relax beneath him, shifting his hips minutely and making the globes of his ass press against Yuuri’s pelvis, causing Yuuri to look away lest he be too taken by the sight. _I am literally never going to be lacking in fantasy material ever again._

“Okay, Yuuri, I…I think I’m good. You can move. But slowly at first, please. And gently,” Viktor tells him. Yuuri moves his hands to Viktor’s hips, giving them a soft squeeze, and then starts to pull back. He pulls nearly all the way out, before pressing back in, groaning deep in his throat, and pulling a whine from Viktor as he moves. He keeps moving slowly, experimenting a little with how far he pulls back before thrusting in again, and then with speed, allowing himself two quick thrusts and then a slow thrust, repeating the pattern for a while. Wanting to be able to kiss and suck at Viktor’s neck and pull more of his favorite sounds from the man, he leans forward again, putting one hand down by Viktor’s arm and changing the angle of his thrusts, pulling an unexpectedly loud moan from Viktor.

“OH! Yes, that’s that spot from earlier, oh please, do that again,” he moans, pushing his hips back against Yuuri’s now with fervor. Yuuri can only oblige, repeating his earlier action, with Viktor now begging for “harder, please, harder, I need it” and Yuuri feeling incredibly powerful and nearly forgetting to think of things to keep himself back from the edge. Trying to distract himself, he reaches around Viktor’s hip to seek out his cock, dangling between his legs and delightfully wet. He wraps his hand around it, squeezing tightly like he knows Viktor likes him to, and starts focusing on timing his thrusts with his grip on Viktor’s cock, groaning wordlessly where he’s pressed his face between his husband’s shoulders, tasting the sweat there.

Knowing that he probably has already pushed his luck further than was wise, he manages to find his voice and slow down his thrusts for a moment to speak. “Vi-Vitya, Vitya, I’m really close, I think I’m going to come soon,” Yuuri gasps, pulling back. Viktor groans but allows him to pull out, crawling up to rest his head on the pillows at the headboard. Yuuri looks at him, his beautiful husband, his angel, admiring how even as debauched as he is in his current state he still looks heavenly, sweat and redness only serving to enhance his looks. He only allows himself a moment to stare before climbing between Viktor’s thighs, pressing himself back into him with intent and resuming the prior pace before long.

Yuuri continues thrusting, adjusting his angle on each thrust as he seeks out that spot that makes his Vitya lose his mind and cry out for him. Viktor wraps his legs around Yuuri, linking his ankles behind Yuuri’s back to help him find it, and nearly bites down on Yuuri’s neck when he finds it, something sure to leave a mark that Viktor will gladly claim in the morning when Yuuri regains his senses and gets embarrassed.

Having found the right angle once more, Yuuri lets his control slip further as he speeds up and begins properly pounding Viktor into their mattress, springs squeaking and headboard rattling at the strength behind his thrusts.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, oh, I’m so close now,” Viktor whines, back arching, nails digging into Yuuri’s shoulders fiercely. Yuuri shifts, putting his weight onto one arm, and reaches again for Viktor’s cock, giving him only four short tugs before his orgasm washes over him, leaving him murmuring endearments softly in Russian as he comes down.

_Oh thank GOD._ Feeling Viktor coming undone around him, tensing up and putting pressure on his cock, and seeing his face as he came, Yuuri could no longer hold back, and with a handful of rough, erratic thrusts, he fills the condom, crying out Viktor’s name as stars overtake his vision. Viktor nips at his neck as he tries his hardest not to just collapse on top of Viktor, adding to the collection of bruises Yuuri will struggle to cover in the morning. Somehow Yuuri manages to find the strength to lift himself off Viktor and roll over onto his side, still trying to catch his breath.

“Hmmmmmm…that was easily the best sex I’ve had in my life, and that’s all thanks to you, my Yuuri,” Viktor says, turning his head to watch Yuuri try to pull himself together. Yuuri returns the eye contact, taking in the cat-who-got-the-cream grin on his husband’s face.

“I mean, I could say the same thing,” Yuuri jokes back, meriting a light smack on the arm and a laugh from Viktor.

“We should probably clean up a bit, before the sheets are completely unsalvageable and the condom starts leaking,” Viktor prompts, reaching across Yuuri for the tissues and wipes. Yuuri can only groan, still feeling like he has some horrible combination of lead and wet soba noodles for limbs. “Poor thing, you’re all worn out. Never fear, my Yuuri, your prince in shining armor is here!” Viktor exclaims, throwing a (clean) baby wipe directly into his face.

“Is it too late for an annulment, or would it have to be a divorce at this point?” Yuuri asks wetly, getting only a cackle in response. He guesses Viktor knows by now that his position in Yuuri’s life is secure enough that no wipe to the face could threaten it. So, sighing, Yuuri grabs the wipe to give himself a perfunctory wipe-down, and gets up to make sure both the wipe and the used condom make it into the trash can.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d like a quick hot shower and then cuddles, and then bed. We’ve got to get up early tomorrow because you’re so adamant we be three hours early to the airport, so sleep should be soon, but I also can’t sleep with this much extra lube in…places,” Viktor says with a grimace, already halfway to the bathroom.

Yuuri does pause for a moment to listen to his husband ( _god, that just never gets old_ ) starting the shower, setting out clean towels, hissing when he tries the water and it’s still too cold. This is his life, now. He’s married, he finally overcame his last bit of nerves over having _that_ kind of sex for the first time, and he’s about to take a shower with the love of his life before they go on their honeymoon. Basking in the contentment, not giving his anxiety a seat at the table, he follows the steam cloud and sound of very bad Russian singing into their future.

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who started reading in the very beginning three years ago: thank you for your patience! And to everyone else, who picked up either with this piece or somewhere else along the way: it means a lot that you decided to give this a chance. This series is now finished, and I'm about to deep-dive into research for my next thing, which I don't think will be in this fandom, not that I don't still love YOI, but I do need a wee break. Let me know what you've thought of this!


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